Two brothers' journey
by A Once Told Story
Summary: From the party at Mr. Boggins' house, over and under the Misty Mountains until they first lay eyes on Erebor in the distance — this is the entire story of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, told through the eyes of Fíli and Kíli as they, for the first time in their lives, experience the true beauties and dangers of Middle Earth. [1st of 3, mixed movie and book-verse]
1. Hobbits are weird

..::**::..

Allow me to present

**THE HOBBIT: AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY  
**_told through the eyes of Fíli and Kíli_

*::...::*

With all the scenes you love, the scenes you hate, the scenes that never made it to the movie and the scenes that never existed in the book.

* * *

CHAPTER ONE

**— Hobbits are weird —**

* * *

They felt the change immediately as they stepped off the Baranduin Road and crossed the border into the Shire. The road so far had gone through leagues of forest, cultivated fields and mile after mile of vast, grassy plains. Untamed lands, inhabited only by travelers at the occasional inn. That in itself was something new entirely to the dwarf brothers Fíli and Kíli, who knew little more of the world than what lay in the Blue Mountains where they were born and raised. But the Shire was different. Now the landscape rose and fell, but not at all like the mountain peaks around their home. Even in the deep darkness of night, these soft hills had a beautiful green and yellow glow about them. Huge trees with lush foliages created stunning patterns of light on the ground as the moon shone trough them. Fíli and Kíli were still far from the nearest town, but within the Shire every road was lit up by the warm glow of fires upon lampposts. Every now and then the flowing nature was interrupted by a door going directly into the hillside. Round they were, decorated with flowers and oil lamps, painted in a natural color pallet. The two traveling brothers made sure to check each and every one of these doors. They had been told that there'd be a mark on the door that belonged to their soon-to-be host. What that mark would look like, however, they did not know.

Thorin, their uncle and King, had told them the name of the creditable hobbit at who's house the company would meet. Mr Bilbo Baggins, as it were. Although the subject was at rest now, Fíli and Kíli had argued about pronunciation. Kíli was convinced that their uncle had said Mr. _Boggins_, and a bet had been placed between the two brothers when Fíli had opposed himself to this.

The first few miles of the Shire were inhabited by farmers alone. Pigs and sheep and cows all stood asleep in their pens, soft lights glowing in the windows to their master's underground homesteads. Fíli and Kíli had never seen anything like these little hobbit houses. They looked cosy and warm, and both brothers longed for the pleasure of a warm hearth and a hot meal.

Then they came to a crossroads, marked fittingly with _Waymeet_ on a sign in the middle. On the same pole hung four more signs pointing down each road; South Farthing, Michel Delving, Rushock Bog and lastly Hobbiton.

"Any idea?" said Kíli.

"Not a clue," Fíli replied.

They looked about themselves for any other signs, as if it would help. They did not know where this Mr. Baggins or Boggins lived. They stood there for a while, debating which way to go, when a lone hobbit came pushing a wheelbarrow full of lettuce heads and pumpkins in front of him. When he passed by the two dwarves, he nodded politely their way.

"Good evening, gentlemen," the hobbit said, but did not stop.

Fíli and Kíli looked at each other to confirm they were thinking the same thing.

"Excuse me," Fíli said. The hobbit halted and turned to them. "You would not know where one Mr… hm, _Baggins_ lives by any chance?"

"Oh yes, oh yes," the hobbit said, looking a bit puzzled. "He lives on the Hill, just outside Hobbiton. You won't miss it, and if you do, ask anyone. Everybody knows him!"

And with that, the hobbit nodded once more and continued down up the road toward South Farthing. And Fíli and Kíli started on the road that lead to Hobbiton, glad that they wouldn't have to guess their way from now on.

"Some burglar, if everyone knows where he lives," said Kíli. Fíli only laughed.

They had found the hobbit quite peculiar to say the least. Never before had they seen an actual hobbit, and knew about them only what had been said about this Mr. Baggins by their uncle. Dwarves were a short people, even though Kíli stood quite tall for one, but hobbits were smaller still.

"Did you see his feet?" Fíli asked.

Kíli smiled. "Yes! He didn't have any boots. And they were _huge_!"

"I wonder if they all have bare feet," Fíli said. "They must be loud when they have such heavy feet. How could any hobbit be a burglar?"

It was not long before countryside turned into town and the hobbit holes grew bigger and more numerous. There was not much movement around the homes, but darkness did not drive hobbits away from the taverns and markets. Some still had their stalls open for business, and not one inn or tavern was empty. The atmosphere was different from the towns in the Blue Mountains, even the towns inhabited mostly by men. Here the sounds of laughter and music were not disturbed by bar fights or loud bargaining in the market. The air held a constant scent of food that made Fíli and Kíli's mouths water. It was a peaceful place, the Shire.

Once more they had to ask for directions. This hobbit lady said that she'd seen another dwarf walking up to the Hill not too long ago. Another one from the company must have arrived, then. It seemed quite the unusual thing for dwarves to seek Mr. Baggins, as this hobbit looked as puzzled as the last one.

The Hill was an easy place to find — it was in fact nothing less than a large hill, with several round hobbit doors and small gardens to decorate it. Upon the highest ledge, in the unbroken light of the moon, lay the largest hobbit hole of them all. Fíli and Kíli climbed up the Hill and stared at the round, dark green door. A brass doorknob was placed in the exact center, and in the lower right corner was the mark. It was the Khuzdul rune for _G_, etched into the wood and glowing faintly in white.

Kíli looked to Fíli with a gleam in his eyes. "Let's get this party started."

There was a tassel hanging from the rim around the door. Kíli hesitated for but a second, suddenly nervous to meet such an esteemed burglar, then pulled the string. A little bell was heard from inside the house. Fíli came to stand next to him, sporting his proudest smile. Kíli tried to mimic the expression, but just then he heard steps inside the door and the doorknob turned. His smile vanished as the door swung inward. Behind it stood a hobbit with his hairy feet bare, a messy head of reddish-brown hair and dressed in a patchwork bathrobe. He eyed the two dwarves on his doorstep and sighed.

"Fíli," began the older brother.

"And Kíli," continued the younger. Then together they took a bow for the hobbit and said: "At your service."

When he stood back up, Kíli felt a little less nervous and smiled brightly. "You must be Mr. _Boggins_!"

The hobbit frowned at them. "No! You can't come in, you've come to the wrong house." Then he began closing the door in their faces.

Kíli was so taken aback that he shot his hand out and pushed the door back open. "What? Has it been canceled?" he asked.

"No one told us," Fíli continued over his brother's shoulder.

Now the hobbit looked like they were taking him for a fool. "No, nothing's been _canceled_."

"Oh, that's a relief!" Kíli grinned.

He pushed the door and the hobbit aside, expecting to be welcome in now that he was sure the meeting was not canceled. Fíli gave a nod to the hobbit, who stood dumbfounded by the wall, then followed Kíli inside. The place was indeed _huge_! The hallway was round like a tunnel, luxuriously decorated and furnished. The walls were a flowery yellow color, and everywhere doors funneled off to other, even bigger and more luxurious rooms. Kíli put his backpack down on the floor in the hallway, placed his quiver of arrows and bow in the hobbit's arms and went to take a look around. Fíli followed suit, relieving himself of his weapons and handing them over to the hobbit.

"Careful with these," he warned with a glint in his eye. "I just had them sharpened."

It was an impressive collection of daggers, small swords and mini axes that he carried around, if Fíli could say so himself. Even he had a hard time remembering where each and every one of them was placed on his body. He could not decipher if the hobbit looked impressed or horrified, but decided on impressed.

"It's nice, this place," Kíli said and turned up in the left-facing corridor. "Did you do it yourself?"

"No, it's been in the family for years," the hobbit explained, but Kíli had stopped listening. He was busy trying to get some dirt off his boot on a wooden box. "That's my mother's glory box! Can you please not do that?" the hobbit shrieked.

Another person came around the corner behind Kíli. "Fíli! Kíli!" the dwarf called. "Come on, give us a hand!"

It was Dwalin, Thorin's second in command and a good friend of their family. The tall, half bald dwarf put an arm around Kíli's shoulder and led him over to another room. Fíli followed close behind.

"Mr Dwalin," Kíli greeted him.

It was a long time since the brothers had seen Dwalin, and they liked him very much. He had taught them everything they knew about axes and maces. When they were little, he'd sometimes taken then hunting, so they shared many happy memories together, and some less happy.

In the hobbit's dinning room waited another familiar face. It was Balin, Dwalin's older brother and trusted counselor of Thorin. "Let's shove this in the hallway, or we'll never get everyone in."

Fíli greeted Balin with a sincere smile and a pat on the arm, then got right to work. Together he, Kíli and Dwalin began carrying side tables and bigger chairs out into the corridor.

The hobbit did not look at all pleased. "_Everyone_? How many more are there?"

As if on cue, there came the sound of the doorbell. With a distressed look on his face and a sigh, the hobbit scurried off to open the door.

Kíli leaned over the table toward Fíli. "Weird creatures, hobbits," he said. Fíli shrugged and listened toward the front door.

"No, there's nobody home!" the hobbit ranted in the distance. Something heavy fell to the floor. "Go away and bother somebody else! There's are enough…"

Fíli laughed a little. "Very weird," he agreed.

Suddenly there was a big commotion by the front door, with many voices calling out simultaneously. The other must have arrived, finally. Soon there was a lot of movement about the hobbit's home, and it was indeed the rest of the company. Some of them Fíli and Kíli knew from before, as close neighbors from the Blue Mountains like Bofur, or distant friends like Ori and his older brothers. Others were old friends of their uncle, like Gloin and Óin. The rest they knew only by name, as Thorin had told them the list of people who had answered his call when the quest was decided upon; Bofur's brother Bombur, their war-scarred cousin Bifur and, finally, the infamous wizard Gandalf.

Fíli looked around the crowd that had gathered, but nowhere he could see the dark hair or blue eyes of his uncle. "Where's Thorin?" he asked Kíli.

His younger brother looked around also, then shook his head. "He said he'd be here, so he'll be here."

The dwarves started coming in with food of all sorts and placing them on the dinner table. Fíli and Kíli figured they'd help. In the hallways Fíli ran straight into the hobbit again, who nearly fell backwards.

"Oh, excuse me," Fíli said and helped the hobbit regain his balance.

"Not to worry," the hobbit said, obviously very annoyed. He corrected his robe and walked away, but in the last second Kíli stopped him.

"Wait. You are Mr. _Boggins_, right?"

The hobbit looked around himself at the other dwarves, only half paying attention to Kíli. "Bilbo Baggins, yes. That's me, but…" He caught sight of Bifur, who could not speak a word of the common tongue, fiddling with a wine bottle in the dinning room and walked right over. "No! That's a _very_ expensive wine, thank you…"

Kíli was left to stand next to his brother in the hallway, shame coloring his face. Fíli nudged him with his elbow, smiling with raised eyebrows. "Told you."

Kíli took a half-hearted swing at his older brother, who dodged it easily and playfully thrust Kíli's arm away. Then they got back to helping their friends fill the dinning room table with all kinds of goodies. There was pork and lamb and all kinds of pies. Cheese blocks lay uncut on the table in front of Bombur's self-assigned seat at the far end. Eggs and fruit shared the limited space left with beautiful red tomatos and bread. While Gandalf did his best at trying to count them all off, Fíli and Kíli moved a barrel of what they hoped was some good ale into the dinning room. When everyone was seated by the table, a tight fit on a good day, Fíli took it upon himself to fill everyone's cup.

It was a merry supper to say the least. Food was thrown across the table, ale was spilt everywhere and laughter rocked Mr. Baggins' home for long hours. The wizard Gandalf sat on the far end of the table, laughing along and sipping from his tiny glass of wine. Mr Baggins himself had taken to a small chair in the corner, looking quite downcast with but a slice of bread in his hand. Kíli noticed the hobbit, but his attention was soon misplaced. Fíli, as usual, ate too much and had to stop himself half-way through his second plate of meat, while Kíli continued to stuff his face as if there was no bottom to him.

"You're full already?" the younger said, eyeing his brother's untouched meat pie. Fíli rolled his eyes, scooped up the pie and threw it over to Kíli on the other side. Some of it ended up in his ale mug, but it did not matter much. Kíli cheered and chowed down the pie.

Washing up was easier said then done. The dwarves saw the mess they'd made and decided that it was only polite not to leave their gracious host with the work. However, the kitchen was not big enough for half-a-dozen dwarves, including the wide-breasted Bombur. it did not help either that Mr. Baggins was running around trying to direct everything to it's proper place, confusing everyone in the process. When poor little Ori, who was the only one younger than Fíli and Kíli by a year or two, came asking Mr. Baggins what he should do with his plate, Fíli had an idea.

"Here you go, Ori, give it to me," he said and took the little plate from Ori's hand.

It was almost magical how Kíli was already standing down the hallway, hand in the air ready to catch the plate. He knew what Fíli was thinking, and winked to let his brother know. Fíli aimed and tossed the plate, to the utter horror of Mr. Baggins. Kíli caught the plate easily with his one free hand, smoking a short pipe in the other.

"Keep 'em coming!" Fíli called into the dinning room, where Dwalin quickly caught up on his idea. Very soon there were pates and glasses and cups flying through the air.

The hobbit was outraged. "Those are my mother's West Farthing crockery! They're over a hundred years old!"

Fíli did not listen to him, he was having too much fun. Suddenly Kíli stood upon the glory box in the hallway. Fíli realized that a very familiar beat was coming from the dinning room. He could see Nori and Gloin by the table, stamping and using forks and spoon as drumsticks upon glasses. Kíli opened his mouth in a wide smile, and Fíli knew exactly what was coming.

"_Blunt the knives, bend the forks!_" Kíli sang.

"_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_" Fíli continued, not caring for perfect notes when the crockery was still flying.

Other dwarves joined into the song one by one. "_Chip the glasses and crack the plates…_"

It was a widely known song throughout the Blue Mountains, and the next line was on both Fíli and Kíli's lips: _That's what Durin's mother hates!_ But other voices drowned them out with an alternate version of the song.

From the dinning room boomed Gloin and Bofur: "_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_"

Fíli couldn't help but laugh — it was so perfect. Mr. Baggins himself looked about ready to fall over when Kíli nearly missed the next plate that Ori threw his way. But Kíli was agile. He somersaulted from the glory box, caught the plate before it could shatter on the mat and sent it flying to Bifur in the kitchen. Fíli joined him and they performed a jumping trick they'd done as kids for Ori, who looked most impressed.

_Cut the cloth, tread on the fat!  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!  
Pour the milk on the pantry floor  
Splash the wine on every door!_

_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl!  
Pound them up with a thumping pole!  
When you're finished if any are whole  
Send them down the hall to roll!_

Fíli took a whiff from Kíli's pipe, then hurried to get his jug of ale before someone washed it up. The last of the dishes were done in a chaotic hurry to the sound of Bofur's beautiful whistle and Bombur's burping. Kíli helped pile the clean crockery up on the dinner table, not a single piece of it broken or cracked. It was so much fun messing with the hobbit, for he ran around like a headless chicken. When the final part of the song came, Fíli took a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_"

Right then, Mr. Baggins pushed his way passed his and stopped dead in his tracks, looking with amazement at the collection of un-chipped glasses and un-cracked plates. From the other side, Kíli stood and pointed his pipe at the awestruck hobbit, laughing loudly. Had Mr. Baggins really thought they'd break it all? What did he take them for — orcs?

In that moment, three loud knocks echoed through the hobbit's home. Every sound died down to silence, few daring to breathe as they looked toward the hallways. They were all thinking the same thing. Kíli sought his brother's gaze, and they shared the same thought: _He made it!_

Gandalf voiced their silent conversation: "He's here."

* * *

**Hello, Viola here!**

**With _The Battle of the Five Armies_ coming up so very quick (I get to see it TOMORROW!), here's something for ya'll to enjoy while you're waiting. I hope I give the original story justice and that you liked it. Whether you did or not, please leave me a nice little review to let me know! I LOVE THEM REVIEWS!**

**Oh, and don't forget to visit my Hobbit-fanfiction website: firebornfanfiction. weebly .com! **(but without the spaces, of course!)

**Anyhow, happy soon-holidays and happy (or not so happy) viewing of BoFA, everyone!**


	2. Our uncle or king

CHAPTER TWO

**— Our uncle or king —**

* * *

It was Gandalf who opened the door for Thorin.

"Gandalf," Thorin said as he laid eyes on the wizard. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice."

Kíli couldn't help but smirk, and in the corner of his eye he could see Fíli's lips move too. Their uncle wasn't one to easily speak of his mistakes or wrong-doings. _He must have had quite an entertaining journey here_, they thought.

"I would not have found it all had it not been for that mark on the door," he continued, which Mr. Baggins denied and Gandalf had to explain.

Fíli and Kíli were both very glad to see Thorin. It was a long time since they'd seen each other, as their uncle had left the Blue Mountains for Ered Luin a whole month before they had. He looked in good health, and it made both brothers glad. The dwarves who knew Thorin personally, like Balin and Dwalin, nodded politely and smiled. Others bowed to their King, and Thorin bowed his head in respect. But it was when he saw his nephews that his royal demeanor fell and a bright smile crossed his lips. But Thorin's attention was soon drawn back to Mr. Baggins and Gandalf.

"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf said and gestured between the hobbit and their uncle. "Allow me to introduce the leader of our company — Thorin Oakenshield."

Fíli and Kíli looked on in reverent silence as Thorin eyed Bilbo. "So. This is the hobbit."

The hobbit looked nervous to be in Thorin's presence. Thorin walked around him and inspected him. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting? Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?"

Kíli had a hard time imagining Mr. Baggins doing any kind of fighting. He'd seen the look on the hobbit's face when Fíli had handed him his weapons. He wasn't surprised at the answer.

"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know," Mr. Baggins said, standing straight with his head high as if trying to match Thorin's stance. Then his nervousness returned. "But I fail to see why that's… relevant."

"Thought as much," Thorin said and glanced back at Kíli and the company with a smile. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

Kíli laughed a little. It was true — neither he nor Fíli could see how this little creature, who'd nearly fainted when they'd thrown a few plates around the house, would be able to stand what their quest promised would come.

Thorin headed toward the dinning room, and the rest of the dwarves followed. When Fíli and Kíli rounded the corner, Thorin stood there and took both of them by the shoulder. His blue eyes glowed.

"How was your journey?" he asked.

Fíli smiled, but Kíli felt slightly questioned. "We did not get into any trouble, if that's what you mean."

"No, it's not what I meant," Thorin said with a chuckle. "But I'm glad to hear it. I suppose your mother gave you a hard time before you left?"

Indeed she had. Dís had not agreed when Fíli had come to tell her that he would go with Thorin on his quest for Erebor. She was beside herself when Kíli decided to come, too. Without thinking, Kíli's hand went to his tunic pocket, where a round trinket rested heavy. He felt the little thing absently through the fabric, then smiled up at his uncle.

"She couldn't stop us if she tried," Kíli said.

For a split second, the brother could have sworn that there was something dark in their uncle's eyes, but it vanished quickly. Thorin pressed their shoulders lovingly. "I'm happy that you are here."

Then he went into the dinning room where the rest of the dwarves had already seated themselves. The brothers followed and took a couple of chairs next to Bombur on the far end from Thorin, who sat next to Gandalf. As soon as his requested bowl of soup was served by Mr. Baggins, the questions began hailing.

"What news from Ered Luin?" Balin asked. "Did they all come?"

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms."

A tinge of jealousy, only a tinge, hit Fíli. Thorin had asked him if he wanted to join him for the meeting of the Dwarf lords, as he was Thorin heir. It was the first time Thorin had done so. Fíli had wanted to go so badly, but his mother would not have it that Kíli went off on his own to the Shire. As so many times before this, Fíli would only get to hear about the royal business of his uncle.

"What do the dwarves from the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin interrupted the cheering. "Is Daín with us?"

Silence fell now, heavy and brooding. Fíli knew Thorin's answer before he said it. "They will not come. They say this quest is ours and ours alone."

Fíli looked around him. He could almost feel the company's spirits failing them and the quest shatter before his eyes. Beside him Kíli was looking at the table top, sighing quietly. Did this mean that they would have to go home to the forges again, they wondered.

"You're going on a quest?" the hobbit asked.

Gandalf asked him to go fetch some more light, and Mr. Baggins scurried off and came back with a small candle. Gandalf took something out of his robe and spread it out over the table, and Kíli rose a little from his chair to see what it was. It was a map, and Thorin looked most surprised.

"It's the mountain," Fíli whispered to his brother.

Gandalf went on to explaining to the hobbit about the Lonely Mountain, the dwarfish kingdom that had been once ruled by Fíli and Kíli's great grandfather and many generations of Durins before him. Fíli and Kíli listened intently, as they always did when Erebor was mentioned. It had been their favorite story as dwarflings, back when it had only been a story. Now that the words came from a great wizard's mouth, it felt more real than ever to the brothers.

"When the ravens of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end," Oín recited next to Fíli.

Once again, Fíli was hardly surprised when the hobbit did not know what they meant by _the beast_. It was Bofur that explained about Smaug, the red serpent of fire that many, many years ago had haunted the dreams of both Fíli and Kíli. Still, it was a story they had asked their uncle to tell many times. Now-a-days they knew how hard it was for Thorin to speak of it, and Fíli looked to Thorin as he moved uncomfortably at Bofur's graphic description.

Suddenly, Ori rose from his chair, nearly knocking it over. "I'm not afraid. I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of the dwarfish iron right up his jaxie!"

Kíli thought Ori both looked and sounded silly. He liked the fellow, he really did, but wished he could be less of a runt. Dori, Ori's older brother, pulled him down again.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin said gravely. "But we number just thirteen! And not thirteen of the best… nor brightest."

The company erupted in a riotous babble. Kíli felt extremely offended and frowned at Balin. "I'll show you brightest," he said in a voice that only Fíli could hear. "Do you hear him, Fíli?"

Fíli wasn't listening to his brother right now. He would have none of this negativity. They'd get nowhere like that. With as much determination as he could muster, he slammed his fist in the table. Silence fell again.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters. All of us. To the last dwarf!" He smalled his hand down again for good measure.

Kíli looked to his older brother with pride. In this moment, he really looked like a future king, and Fíli felt like it also. The approving nod from Thorin across the table only strengthened the feeling.

"And don't forget we have a wizard in our company," Kíli added. "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!"

The statement did not seem popular to Gandalf, who choked on his pipe smoke and denied it was true. When the other dwarves saw his hesitation, their own insecurities turned into anger. Dori confronted the wizard, demanding he answer how many dragons he'd killed. When he couldn't, the company once more turned into an angry mob. Although Kíli also felt like they'd been a little cheated if Gandalf did not know how to kill dragons, he followed his brother's example and sat still and quiet.

"**Shazara**!" Thorin suddenly growled and stood up from his chair. Within a second the dwarves had returned to their seats and silenced. Fíli was impressed, as always, at how easily Thorin controlled his people. He hoped he'd one day be just as respectable. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years."

_Sixty years_, Kíli repeated in his head. He was but seventeen years old then, barely able to speak properly.

"Eyes look east to the mountain," Thorin continued, eying each and every dwarf. "Assessing. Wondering. Weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to _take back Erebor_!?"

The words inspired so much hope in Fíli and Kíli. They felt victorious and powerful, indestructible. When the company fell into a fit of cheering, they joined in without hesitation. "**Du bekâr! Du bekâr**!" Thorin chanted.

Once again, Balin's authoritative voice broke the mood. "You forget, the front gate is sealed! There's no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," Gandalf countered.

Kíli looked on in stunned amazement as the wizard turned his fingers and, suddenly, there was a key in his hand. Neither he nor Fíli had ever seen anything like it, but to Thorin the key was obviously familiar.

"How came you by this?" he whispered, almost at a loss of words.

"It was given to me by your father," Gandalf explained. "By Thrain. For safe-keeping."

_Grandfather_, the brothers thought in awe. They'd never known him, and had nothing of his. To see something that he'd owned felt unreal.

"It is yours now," Gandalf said and handed Thorin the key.

Fíli thought about it, and a new kind of hope stirred within him. "If there's a key, there must be a door."

Kíli felt it too. Maybe they really had a chance after all. Gandalf pointed to the map on the table. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

"There's another way in," Kíli sighed in relief and put an arm on his brother's shoulder. Fíli turned to him and smiled, and they shared their calm excitement. _It's not lost, brother_, they thought.

"Yes, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gandalf continued with a glint in his eye, and then he sighed. "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it. _But_ there are others in Middle-Earth who can." He looked directly at Thorin now. "The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and not small amount of courage. But if we are careful, and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar," Ori noted and pointed to Mr. Baggins.

Fíli and Kíli had quite forgotten that they were sitting in the hobbit's home, and that Mr. Baggins was still there listening to all of this. Now he was standing over Thorin's shoulder looking down on the map.

"Hm, a good one, too. An expert, I'd imagine."

"And are you?" Gloin asked.

Mr. Baggins looked behind himself, as if Gloin was speaking to somebody else. "Am I what?"

Beside Fíli, Óin started to laugh. "He said he's an expert!" Fíli thought it rather cute how the old, almost deaf dwarf had got it all wrong, as usual.

Mr. Baggins made his standing point very clear to the dwarves this time, and Fíli was really beginning to doubt they'd walk out of here with a burglar. "I've never stolen a thing in my life!" the hobbit proclaimed.

Kíli leaned in closer to Fíli and whispered. "Why do we need him again?"

Fíli shrugged and eyed the hobbit. "Why would a wizard want us to bring someone like him with us? Would he even survive?" Now was Kíli's time to shrug.

In that moment, a darkness crept up the wall and filled the room like a thick smoke. Gandalf had risen from his chair and towered over the dwarves. The chatter that had started died down under the wizard's bellowing voice. "Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!"

He sat back down again, and the darkness faded from the room. Kíli had not realized that he had grabbed his brother's sleeve tight. He let go of it, ashamed. Little scared him, but this wizard was downright freaky. Fíli had balled his fists and now unclenched them, his knuckles white.

After staring out the wizard for a moment, Thorin sighed. "Fine. We'll do it your way." He turned to Balin. "Give him the contract."

Kíli cocked his eyebrows at Fíli. "This will be fun," he mouthed.

"It's just the usual," Balin said and gave the hobbit a piece of pergament. "Summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, funeral arrangements, so forth."

Kíli swallowed a laughter, Mr. Baggins looked so shocked at that last part. The hobbit went into the hallway and took his sweet time reading through the contract. The further he read, the paler he got.

"Bet you he'll faint," Kíli said under his breath, pretending to inspect the table.

Fíli tried to act mature. "I won't bet you on that!"

Kíli knew his brother was in on it — he knew him all too well. So when the hobbit got to the part about injuries on the contract and started to wobble on his feet, Kíli couldn't stop himself from grinning childishly. Bofur only helped when he continued to describe Smaug's fire power with such passion that Mr. Baggins had to lean on his knees for a moment.

"I need air," the hobbit said.

"Flashing light, searing pain, then _puff!_ you're nothing more than a pile of ash!" Bofur insisted.

Mr. Baggins stood right up for a second, staring blankly at nothing. Then, just like that, he fell to the floor with a painful bang and there he remained.

"Told you," Kíli whispered slowly into his brother's ear.

Fíli brushed him off and rose from his chair. "You're a baby, Kíli."

Kíli only smirked, then followed Fíli into the hallway. Together they lifted the poor hobbit from the floor and carried him where Gandalf lead them. They carefully sat him down in an armchair in the sitting room, then left him alone with the wizard.

Fíli headed for the front door. From his pack he brought out his pipe and opened the door, but Kíli did not follow him. "You want some air?"

"I'll stay inside," Kíli said. He motioned to Fili's pipe. "I've had enough of that for one night."

Fíli smiled and closed the door behind him, muffling the sounds of the company inside. Outside was as dark as when they'd arrive, only less clouds in the sky. The moon shone even brighter now over the glowing town of Hobbiton below, and stars dotted the sky. Fíli breathed deeply from his pipe and enjoyed the cool air of night. _So much to take in_, he thought. Days ago he'd been in his bed at home by this time, or out in the woods outside Ewardor hunting. Now he was here, in a strange land with his uncle, brother and eleven companions he barely knew. The world lay before his feet, and he felt ready to grasp it.

He sighed and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

Inside, Kíli was walking about the hobbit hole trying to find the bathroom. He was mighty impressed by how big this underground house was. Here lived after all only one hobbit, and a mighty small one at that. In some ways, Bag End reminded him of his own house back in the Blue Mountains. In other ways, if felt like he didn't belong.

Kíli had not seen much of the world, but he'd seen evil before, even though it was very long ago. Yet he sought adventure. He wanted danger, excitement and battles where he could prove himself. This peaceful place was not for him. He wanted someplace he could _live_.

He only hoped that Erebor was that place.

Around the corner, Thorin was standing in a living room, looking at two pictures of hobbits hanging over the mantelpiece. He heard Kíli come and smiled at his nephew, who came to stand next to him.

"We leave early tomorrow morning," he said. "Mr. Baggins has arranged beds for us all. Where's your brother?"

"Outside," Kíli said. "Will Mr. Baggins come with us?"

Thorin's face turned grim. "Only he can decide that."

They stood there quiet for a while, until a low hum reached them from another part of the house. The tones layered until it was a chord of low, rumbling voices. A melody that Kíli had only heard a few times before gave the song its name.

Thorin took him by the shoulder lovingly. "Come on. Let's join them."

They went into another sitting room where the lights had been dimmed and a warm fire crackled in the fireplace. The rest of the company had gathered in there, all humming quietly to the same tune. Fíli was there too, leaned to the mantelpiece. Kíli rested against the edge of a table, trying to remember the words to the song.

Then, Thorin started singing.

_Far over the Misty Mountains cold  
To dungeons deep, and caverns old  
We must away  
Ere break of day  
To find our long forgotten gold_

_The pines were roaring on the height  
The winds were moaning in the night  
The fire was red  
It flaming spread  
The trees like torches blazed with light_

By the end, even Fíli and Kíli had joined in on the song. It spoke of many things that they knew nothing about, and yet it filled their hearts with dread as well as determination. They had their visions of what Erebor looked like, what the vast treasures of the lost land could be worth. They had dreamt of the dragon's fire more than once, and yet they could never understand its destructive power.

When the song died down and the dwarves retired to their own quarters for the night, this is what Fíli and Kíli were thinking about in silence. They said nothing, but their dreams that night were the same. Dragon fire and their uncle screaming, and the words of power they had heard today that had filled them with confidence.

**Du bekâr! Du bekâr!**

* * *

**Viola here! A heart-broken, crying, sleepless Viola, but here nonetheless... Yes, I've now seen BotFA, and I'm not gonna spoil anything, but bring tissues for Mahal's sake!**

**As far as the story goes — quite long chapter with little outside of the film happening, but I promise you, it will be made up for! I hope you enjoyed it! Pleeeeeze, leave reviews! I do not care for the review count, I only get such a huge kick out of hearing from you guys, it really makes my day!**


	3. The journey begins

CHAPTER THREE

**— The journey begins —**

* * *

A beautiful sunrise had just started to illuminate the Shire when Dwalin knocked hard on Fíli and Kíli's door. The sound roused Fíli from deep slumber, and the light from an oil lamp helped wake him up. He looked across the room at a framed map hanging on the wall, unable to tell where he was, and then he remembered. Today was the day when the real journey begun.

"No sleeping in today, lads!" Dwalin called from the other side of the door. Then his heavy footsteps wandered off and he knocked on another door.

Fíli did not believe he had ever slept so soundly. He was in a small, round room with no windows, deep in a pocket of the hobbit's hole, laying in the softest bed he'd ever slept in. On a thick mattress on the floor lay Kíli, sprawled out underneath a blanket. The pillow lay far away from him on the floor.

"Wake up, Kíli," he said, but did not get up himself. Part of him wanted to stay in this bed forever.

His little brother did not move, and his relaxed breathing did not change. Shaking the drowsiness out of his head, Fíli grabbed one of his own pillows and swung it over himself. It landed on Kíli's chest and the younger dwarf was startled awake.

"Good morning, dear brother," Kíli muttered and glared up at Fíli.

Fíli threw the cover aside and swung his feet onto the floor, right next to Kíli's face. Kíli wrinkled his nose and turned away, throwing Fíli's pillow right back at him.

"And good morning to you," Fíli grinned.

He stretched his face in a long yawn, then got up and gathered his clothes from an armchair. He ran his fingers through his messy hair, realizing he forgot to unbraid it before going to bed last night. _It'll be hell untangling this_, he thought. Then he glanced at Kíli, and he changed his mind. It'd be hell untangling his little brother's hair. After they had both gotten dressed and packed their gear, Fíli making sure that every knife and axe was where it should be on his person, he sat his brother down on a chair and attempted the impossible. When he had finally brushed through the black mop of hair, he spun two locks from either side of Kíli's head and attached them with a silver clasp in the back.

"At least now you will look a little respectable," Fíli chuckled upon inspecting his work.

He knew Kíli cared quite little about such things compared to most in their family, but he was a Durin after all. Once Fíli had redone his own braiding, the two of them left the room and made their way to the dinning room, where Gandalf was sitting with Thorin and Balin, noses buried deep in grandfather Thrain's map. Thorin was listening intently to what Gandalf was saying, fiddling mindlessly with the secret key and did not notice his nephews' arrival.

They had taken the longest to get ready, that much was for certain. Two tables in one of the sitting rooms had been shoved together and filled with whatever was left of Mr. Baggins' food stash. Around it sat all three Ri brothers, Óin and Gloin, Balin and Dwalin and Bifur, each one with their plates full. Kíli and Fíli sat right down.

"Good morn, lads," came Bofur's voice from over Kíli's shoulder. "I think you took my seat."

"Take a new one, then." Fíli said and winked, and Kíli snickered childishly. Bofur raised an eyebrow at the two rascals, smiled and grabbed a new chair from a corner.

Kíli reached over his brother's plate to grab a chicken leg from a bowl. Even in the Blue Mountains, where food was in the plenty and the ale was good, Kíli had never had such a fine breakfast. The bread was freshly baked and the lamb stew was still hot when the brothers sipped on it.

"My own recipe," Bombur explained with his mouth full. "The meat is a bit stringy, though."

Neither Fíli nor Kíli cared about that and devoured their second helpings hungrily. Just as they were finished and made to put their bowls away in the kitchen, Bifur grabbed them by the arms.

The disabled dwarf shook his fist in the direction of the entry hall. "**Nainkhî. Mud naimkhihi khirabîn.**" Then he pointed at Fíli's chest. "**Rumush**?"

Kíli sighed and looked to Fíli. They'd hoped they wouldn't have to get the ponies, but then again it was better than sticking around here with the dishes. Fíli nodded to Bifur, who headed for the door with the brothers in tow. Fíli grabbed his two swords, carelessly thrown on the hallway floor by Mr. Baggins last night, and sheathed them on his back. Kíli threw his quiver over his shoulder and off they were.

The Shire was just as beautiful in daylight as it had been cloaked by night. It looked smaller when they could see everything. Kíli thought it rather cute when three hobbit children that reached him half-way up his thigh ran past him on the road, laughing and stumbling. He could only imagine what he and Fíli and their friends had looked like when they ran about Ewardor, wrecking havoc where they went, so many years ago.

Bifur lead them to an inn on the outskirts of Hobbiton. It was little more than a big, wooden cottage with stables and pens behind it. It was overgrown with vines and the roof was covered with moss. Above the door swung a sign saying _Green Dragon Inn_. The reception of the inn, which housed the bar as well, was quiet this early in the morning, but heads turned when the dwarves barged in. A lone barmaid sat behind the counter, a hobbit of course, with long black curls and rosy cheeks.

Bifur went up to her. His appearance startled her. She could not take her eyes off the little axe piece that was wedged into Bifur's head. Fíli realized quickly that this was not going to work. As soon as Bifur started speaking Khuzdul with the barmaid, Fíli stepped in and moved Bifur aside.

"I'll handle this," he said. Bifur shot Fíli a confused look, but Fíli had his attention on the barmaid. "Madame. How many ponies do you have for trade?"

"Seven, last I checked," she said, still glancing nervously Bifur's way. "Dwarfish gold, I guess?"

Fíli looked out the window in the back, facing out over pens where the ponies were gracing the grounds. They looked in good health, with thick manes and groomed fur. He threw Kíli a questioning look and the younger brother nodded back.

"We'll take them all," Fíli said and unhooked a pouch of dwarfish coins from his belt. The barmaid gave a look as if he was kidding her, but when Fíli started pouring coins on the counter, she dropped it.

Two young hobbit lads helped them get the animals ready for the long travel. Saddles, straps for gear and barrels woven from straw to carry supplies were all firmly attached to the horses. Kíli checked every one of them, but the hobbits ad done a great job.

Thorin had only requested they would have fifteen ponies all together. That was one for each of them, including Mr. Baggins, and one for carrying supplies only. As most of the company had brought their own ponies from the Blue Mountains, they now had sixteen ponies. That proved to be very good when one by one the rest of the company arrived with their arms absolutely full of supplies and paraphernalia. Once everything had been secured to the ponies and divided between the company, not a single more potato could they carry. Thorin had made sure that Fíli and Kíli carried the least. The brothers knew why, for their uncle had made it clear to them before he left the Blue Mountains.

"You are among the youngest of this company, and I know I can trust you," he had said. "You are my best fighters and you have the best sight of us all. I will expect you to use these skills when I tell you to. Is this understood?"

Fíli and Kíli did not complain. While the others struggled with heavy packs and inconveniently hanging cooking gear and tools, they had but a few things and their own backpacks and weapons to carry. But they'd have enough to do to drain their energy, Thorin had promised them that.

It was not long before the last of the company, more specifically Thorin, Balin and Gandalf, arrived on their own ponies down the road. Thorin rode straight up to his nephews with a solemn look.

"I wondered where the two of you had wandered off to," he said, just a hint of sarcasm on his voice.

Both brothers were puzzled. They were sure their uncle had told Bifur to take them with him this morning. "Bifur said we were to get the rest of the ponies," Fíli explained.

Thorin's lips twitched into a faint smile. "I told him to take Bofur and Bombur, but no matter. We're all here and we are ready to go."

The brothers gave their uncle a nod and made for their ponies. In the corner of his eye, Kíli saw something grey flip in the wind and a glint of white vanish behind the inn. He turned to look but the object was already gone. But when everybody had mounted their horses and gathered on the yard beside the road, he noticed — Gandalf was missing. When he pointed it out to Fíli, the older only looked confused.

"Thorin," Kíli called. "Where did the wizard go?"

Thorin scanned the group around him and a frown came upon his face. He exchanged a few words with Balin, then turned back to the company patently awaiting a verdict. "We shall wait until the strike of eleven. Then we must be off. If Gandalf is not back by then, we leave without him."

They waited, and they waited. Hobbits went about their business around them, casting discreet glances their way. Patience was draining from Kíli, who resorted to polishing his battle bow with his tunic and tugging at the spun locks in his hair. Then finally Thorin started onto the road with the long line of dwarves in tow. The clock had struck eleven in every home that housed one, and there was no wizard to be seen.

The road lead straight out of Hobbiton, through a little settlement called Bywater and then ended the populated areas of the Shire. Now came forests so lush and warm it was hard to believe that it was only still April month. Fíli drew long breaths of the flowery air. It was hot in the sun, and the cooling gusts of wind were few. He thought about removing his fur coat, when suddenly he noticed a new presence a few rows in front of him — white horse and a grey cloak draped across it. White hair flowed down the back of the figure, topped off with a pointy, grey hat. Fíli had not noticed Gandalf's return. It felt a bit better to have him around, though… even if he had _not_ killed a hundred dragons like Kíli had suggested.

"Fee," came Kíli's voice from behind Fíli. The younger pushed the pony so that he came up beside his brother. "Do you think Mr. Baggins will come with us?"

Fíli pouted. "Don't call me that. And we've already left him behind. We're on our own."

"That's too bad. I started to like the little guy." Kíli sighed and the conversation seemed over for a bit. "And I call you whatever I like. _Fee_."

Fíli rolled his eyes and kicked his pony forward a bit, leaving Kíli to chat with Bofur and Nori behind him. He overheard their babbling about their burglar. While Nori shared Fíli's opinion — that Mr. Baggins had made his choice already — Bofur seemed unwilling to believe that _Bilbo_ had deserted them.

Kíli rode up beside his brother again. "You want in on the bet? Ten gold against Nori that Bilbo will turn up."

"_Ten_? You're stupid, Kíli, I don't think he is going to—"

"WAIT!"

The entire company came to an abrupt halt. Fíli felt the shame creeping into his face. The voice did definitely belong to Mr. Baggins, and when the brothers turned around to look, the little figure was running as fast as his little legs would carry him up the road. He still wore no shoes, and in his little hand was a long piece of parchment. Fíli did not believe his eyes. The whole company looked on as the hobbit ran straight up to Balin and handed him the parchment.

"I signed it!" the hobbit declared. Balin took up his looking glass and inspected the contract.

"I underestimated him," Fíli said under his breath.

Fíli dared glance to his right where Kíli was, expecting another slug smile on his brother's face for once again beating him on a bet. But Kíli looked as surprised as his brother, the corners of his lips twitching. It was Fíli's time to smile.

_He didn't think Bilbo would show up either._

"Everything appears to be in order," Balin said and rolled up the contract. In a loud voice he called: "Welcome, master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

Kíli couldn't help it — he was surprised. He did not know why, but he had believed that maybe the small, neat creature from last night had not been the real burglar they were looking for, and that somewhere along the road a professional burglar with thieving skills worth Nori's approval would turn up. But here was the same hobbit who had almost locked them out of Bag End last night, smiling innocently and carrying little luggage. He did not look any braver, but something on his voice was different.

In the very front of the company, Thorin looked no more impressed than he had yesterday. "Give him a pony!"

The line of riders started moving again, none with any thought of actually giving Mr. Baggins a pony. Not that the hobbit seemed any interested in one.

"No, no, no. That won't be necessary," he proclaimed flurried. "I can, I'm sure I can k-keep up on… on foot, you kn– I've done my fair share of, uh, _walking_ holidays, you know. I even got as far as—"

Fíli raised an eyebrow at his brother, who got the hint. Kíli turned and nodded to Dori behind him, who had the spare pony tied to his saddle. As the dwarves together lead the pony forward, Fíli and Kíli grabbed each one of Bilbo's shoulders and lifted him into the air. The hobbit shrieked and kicked but could not break lose.

"Easy, Mr. Baggins!" Kíli said as they lowered Bilbo into the saddle of the pony. Fíli handed him the reigns. The hobbit glared at the two of them resentfully, but they did not care.

The day continued on in a slow ride through the forest lands surrounding the Shire. The hills turned less round and rocks speckled the grassy landscape. The hobbit slowly returned to his usual self again, asking about things that should be obvious and complaining about food and horse hair. He even had the whole company stop once, stating that they had to turn back to fetch his handkerchief. Kíli's opinion about Bilbo was swaying again.

_What is such a person doing on a journey like this?_ he thought.

Four nights passed with little change. The weather was fine and they always stayed in places not far from a farmer's home or a village. They slept, stocked up on supplies and left the following morning. Not that sitting on the back of a pony all day was something Fíli and Kíli enjoyed, but they agreed it could be worse. They passed the time playing little tricks on the hobbit when nobody was looking, or listening to old Óin and Glóin telling stories. In return they sparred with swords in the light of campfires in the nights before they went to sleep. Most of the company enjoyed watching them, and it let them blow off some steam.

The sun had creeped down behind the horizon on the fifth night since they had left Bag End. The entire day had passed in pouring rain, and a lightning storm had blown in over their heads. Kíli huddled in his coat that the rain had long since soaked through. He was tired and annoyed and wanted nothing more than to sit down by a warm fire. He had fallen behind to the rear of the company, with a very silent Ori to accompany him, and did not notice that Thorin had ordered them to stop. He was roused when his pony stopped moving.

"What's going on?" Kíli asked Dori.

"We're camping here," Dori said and slid out of his saddle.

_Here_? Kíli thought irritably. The ground was as soaked as his coat, and the trees did not offer much cover from the rain. They would be swimming in the mud before they could make up camp. But he knew it was futile to argue with his uncle, to he sighed and started unstrapping his sleep mat from the pony.

Just then, a shrill cry pierced the air like lightning. In the front of the line, Kíli saw a dark stag rise on his hind legs. Another horse started neighing and took fright at the sudden commotion. At first it was hard to see who's pony it was, but Kíli recognized the struggling figure as the pony pranced high in the air and then took off into the woods. The disappearing dwarf's screams came like an echo of desperation to Kíli.

"FÍLI!" he cried out.

* * *

**Here's where the book and the movie sort of become one — you who have read the books know of what I speak. For you who haven't... well, you'll just have to wait and see what happens to our brave little warriors.**

**Your reviews are so wonderful, it really is a privilege to read them! You guys and gals are so awesome, and I hope that you will continue to like and review the story! Viola hopes you had a great holiday and that Mahal will bless all of your New Years.**


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